


Negative Space

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 04:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Brighid gets a job offer somewhere far away.





	Negative Space

**Author's Note:**

> i’m still very much on holiday overseas, but i had too much free time one evening and an itch of inspiration i couldn’t let go of so here’s this pinch of moraghid

“I once heard a story about a man who fell in love with a painting in a museum. He loved it so much, he uprooted himself from his lifelong home to follow it when it was transferred to an exhibit in another country.”

Vast, empty, negative space is an exhausting kind of hollowness meant only to be temporary. It’s to be filled with people and things and breath and warmth. These halls in this museum are so cold.

Mòrag reaches for Brighid’s hand, to fill the space between them.

“The years passed and nothing had changed,” Brighid continues. “He followed that painting wherever it went, no matter the distance.”

“If he could afford to travel to that extent, it didn’t occur to him to buy the painting?”

Brighid squeezes her hand. “Birds of paradise aren’t meant to be caged.”

Mòrag contemplates this, though contemplation can’t fill that negative space either. This conversation is long past due like a piece of fruit beginning to draw flies. She was never one for procrastination, as diligent as she is, but Brighid…

The painting they stand before is something nondescript from a couple hundred years ago. Gentle brushstrokes, dull hues, a subject with no name gazing placidly at the viewer.

Perhaps someone had once loved her, just as Mòrag loves Brighid.

“You’re asking me to follow you,” Mòrag says, a simple fact. “There’s no need to be so indirect.”

A pause, there, stretches so far down the empty hall with its sterile white walls and spotless hardwood floor that it could nearly echo. The story was only a poetic prelude. Brighid simply wanted to soften the news. She’d be a fool to turn down this job offer, anyway.

“...You don’t always need to give me what I want, Mòrag.”

“But I will.” As simple as that. “To the ends of the Earth.”

“Now you’re just being overdramatic.”

Her fingers are warm. Mòrag raises them to her lips to kiss, the painting ignored. Theatrics be damned, she’s just trying to be sincere. At least Brighid realizes this; she smiles, turning her hand to cup Mòrag’s face.

“I will always go with you, Brighid.”

“You’re smitten.”

“So are you.”

And maybe, it would finally be enough to fill that negative space.


End file.
